CHAPTER 3

GAME OVER

The whistle blew, ending the last football game of the season. Everybody on the team formed a line to slap hands with the other team.

Everybody except Willy.

Willy hadn’t played. He hadn’t played all season, and he hadn’t played today. He had just sat on the bench, wearing a poncho to keep off the rain. So why should he slap hands?

“Hey, Willy, come on! You’ve got to get in line,” said Rufus.

Willy got up slowly. “Okay, okay,” he said.

“Good game, good game, good game,” they all said, over and over, slapping hands. But it didn’t mean anything. It was just what you had to say.

Willy’s mom and dad came over to say “hi” after the game. Clara came over, too. All they could say was “hi.” They couldn’t say “congratulations” or “good game,” because he hadn’t played.

“Don’t take it so hard,” said Rufus as they walked back to the locker room.

“Yeah,” said Dan. “So what if we lost? It really was a good game. It was close.”

“I don’t care that we lost,” said Willy. “I just wanted to play.”

“Yeah, me, too,” said Dan. “Bummer.” Dan looked sad. That wasn’t like him.

“It’s our first year,” said Rufus, slapping them both on their shoulder pads. “We’ll get better.”

“It was your first year, too,” said Willy. “You got to play.”

“Only for one quarter,” said Rufus.

“Maybe Dan and I are just too small for football,” said Willy.

Biff heard them. “You’re just as big as I am,” said Biff, “and I played the whole game.”

Biff was right. Biff was no bigger than Willy, but Biff was the first-string half-back. He had scored four touchdowns this season.

“It’s not being small that makes you such losers,” Biff went on. “It’s just that you’re lousy. You’re pasty-faced nerds. You’re benchwarmers. You’re scrubs. You’re slow, and you can’t throw, and you can’t catch. That’s what makes you scrubs. And scrubs don’t play.”

“I know how to tackle!” yelled Dan. He jumped at Biff.

But Biff dodged him, and Dan fell down full-length in the mud. Biff was too fast for Dan.

Biff was too fast for any of them.